


i'm a little less lonely with you

by nonbinarywithaknife (littleboxes)



Series: just let them REST alex [7]
Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beard Braiding, Drabble, Friendship, Gen, Hair Braiding, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Platonic Cuddling, or i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:33:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21687520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleboxes/pseuds/nonbinarywithaknife
Summary: zolf and sasha, post-rome.
Relationships: Sasha Racket & Zolf Smith
Series: just let them REST alex [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1514891
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	i'm a little less lonely with you

It’s dark, and raining, and Zolf’s legs are aching again, and he can’t stop seeing blue veins when he closes his eyes, and overall he really, really wishes he was anywhere but here. Anywhere but here, alone, in a cold room, in a devastated, plague-ridden, riot-filled world. 

And then his door opens. He doesn’t see it open, but he hears a creak in between cracks of thunder, and for a second he hears a rustling in the shadows, and then Sasha is sitting on his bed, looking at the wall. 

“Can I- Your beard. Can I. Braid it?” she asks, still looking at the wall, and Zolf blinks in surprise. His beard, of course, is un-braided at the moment, because it had gotten covered in blood and ick during the fight and it’s _awful_ to leave that stuff in there longer than necessary. Sasha’s hands aren’t twitching, she’s far too skilled for that, but Zolf can picture it. Can’t see her eyes, but can picture the rawness that still lurks in them, after Rome. 

“Sure. Come ‘ere,” he says. She scooches down the bed towards him, and he leans comfortably against the wall. 

They stay like that for the rest of the night. Sasha braids and un-braids his beard, trying different styles, most of which Zolf is pretty sure are related to trap-making. They don’t speak. But as the sun rises, Sasha’s eyes are a little less raw, and Zolf’s legs ache less, and Sasha leans into his shoulder. 

She lets out a yawn, and Zolf feels warm at the realization that she hadn’t tried to hide it. He closes his eyes, and they fall asleep to the sunrise. 

It’s still raining, and neither of them much like the color blue, anymore. But it’s less cold, and less lonely.


End file.
